Real Gifts
by GylzGirl
Summary: Holiday Fic. Some Giles and Xander resolution picking up at the end of "Amends".


Real Gifts  
by GylzGirl  
  
  
Disc: Joss, great Santa-like entity that he is, gave me these thoughts for the Holidays. He owns the characters, premise, yadda yadda. I get what's left.  
Rating: PG-13  
SPOILERS: AMENDS  
Author's Note: Special Thanks to Ayma, Keina, and Meawan for giving it a look-over and making suggestions. Happy Holidays to all!  
Written: December 1998  
  
******  
  
  
Giles sipped his second mug of warm apple cider and walked to the window yet again. He looked out in amazement as Sunnydale continued to be blanketed in snow. A knock, so light Giles wasn't sure he actually heard it, came upon his door. He moved across the room and opened the door. Xander stood before him, arms laden with packages, head bowed glumly as he waited for the door to open. When he realized it had, he instantly brightened into a wide grin. "Trick or Treat!"  
  
Giles smiled. "I think you're a couple of months late for that."  
  
"Yeah I know, but I didn't get to use it this year and it was bursting to get out."  
  
"Ah. Well we certainly don't want you to burst."  
  
"Exactly. Especially on the Hellmouth where nothing is necessarily a figure of speech."  
  
"Quite." Giles noticed how the boy was shifting his weight side-to-side, fidgeting, nervous. "Well, don't stay out there and freeze Xander. Do come in."  
  
"Thanks." So much gratitude injected in that one little word. Did he really imagine he'd leave him out in the cold? Xander brought the gifts into the living room and sat them on the coffee table.  
  
"Make yourself comfortable," Giles said when Xander simply stood silently beside the sofa.  
  
"Thanks." Xander sat down carefully on the couch, as if trying to take up as little room as possible, his hands in his lap, his eyes cast down once more. What was going on? Xander had never before thought twice about bursting into his house and feeling right at ease. Giles joined him on the couch. Xander looked up, not meeting his eyes, glancing around the room. "So no tree, no stocking, no halls decked in boughs of fa la la? What gives?"  
  
"W-well, it's just me here. I know what day it is. Stocking? What for? So I can pull out some little trinket I bought myself and act surprised?"  
  
"I can relate. Oh, these are for you." He gestured to the gifts. "I didn't have plans so the gang elected me delivery boy. Oh not that I minded or anything. Um, I'm sorry, I should probably go. I didn't mean to party crash your Christmas." Xander stood up.  
  
"Don't be ridiculous Xander. Sit back down," he said gently. Xander complied. "I'm touched that you all remembered me, and I'm grateful you took the time to come over. You're welcome to stay as long as you like. I realize you probably have somewhere you'd rather be," Xander's eyes went to the floor again. Giles knew he had no one to be with either and was rather unhappy about it. "However, I was just going to stay in and...well...I don't know, read I suppose. So I'd really be glad of the company. You know, i-if you've got the time."  
  
Xander looked up smiling. "Yeah, I uh, I think I can pencil you in."  
  
"Good. Would you like some cider or cookies?"  
  
"Sure. When have I ever turned down cookies? But, you have to open your presents first."  
  
"Oh, all right, twist my arm." Xander laughed at that, and relaxed a bit. He handed Giles the first gift; a large box wrapped in the Sunday comics. He read the tag. It was from Oz. Giles ripped open the paper and opened the box inside. "Oh. My. God." He pulled out an acoustic guitar. A card was tucked into the strings. Giles opened it and read it aloud. "Willow showed me an old picture of you playing. I thought you might like to get back in practice. Who knows? Maybe you could come sit in with the Dingoes? Happy Holidays Giles, Oz."  
  
Giles strummed his thumb across the instrument and was rewarded by a rich full sound. "That was very sweet of him."  
  
"Yeah. That's Oz. He's a sweet guy." Giles watched the guilt and hurt of the past couple of weeks flash across the young man's features.  
  
'Best not to dwell on the guitar now,' Giles decided. He could always thank Oz later, in private. He sat it aside.   
  
"So, next one," Xander asked hopefully.  
  
"Sure." He was handed a big silver box with a large white bow, Willow's gift. He opened it and smiled. "Oh no, she wasn't trying to send a message."  
  
"Why? What is it?"  
  
Giles began pulling out books with orange and yellow covers. "Idiot's Guide to the Internet, The Web For Dummies...I'm sensing a theme."  
  
Xander smiled and handed him a red package.  
  
"From Joyce?" Giles arched an eyebrow Xander's direction.  
  
"Beats me, I just brought it over. Don't shoot the messenger." He held his hands up. When Giles opened it, he blushed, and Xander noticed. "Ooh, what'd ya get?" Giles covered it again and glared Xander-ward until the boy sat back with an impish grin. Giles peered at the contents inside once more: A black fedora, a set of handcuffs, a silver ID bracelet with "Ripper" engraved on it, a "Best of Cream" CD, a plain Hershey chocolate bar with "Inspected and Safe" written on it in magic marker, and a book "The Fine Art of Repressing". Giles laughed, covered it again and set it aside.  
  
Next Xander gave him a very small box. "Buffy?" Xander nodded. He opened it gingerly. It was a silver lapel pin, half a clock's face. He picked it up and spied a note in the bottom of the box. "It doesn't work without the other half. How us. In respect and appreciation for everything you do for me. Love, Buffy."  
  
Xander could have sworn he saw Giles' eyes water, but he blinked a few times and it was gone. "Okay, now time for my present."  
  
Giles slipped the pin onto his shirt pocket and looked up to see Xander proffering him a plain white box with holes on top. He lifted the lid and gasped as the furry little face of a sandy colored calico kitten looked up at him with bright eyes and meowed. He ran his finger under the collar and lifted the metal tag that hung there so he could read it. "Tweed." Giles smiled up at Xander as he lifted the tiny creature out of the cardboard and onto his chest, petting it.  
  
"I thought, well, you couldn't keep Patches so..." Xander smiled, "I hope you like her."  
  
"I do. Very much. It was very thoughtful of you." Giles stood, cradling the cat against him, and retrieved a small box from his mantle. "Now this is for you." Giles returned to his seat next to Xander and handed it to him.  
  
Xander removed the lid and his mouth went dry. "Giles?" At the end of a silver chain hung a medallion, obviously very old.  
  
"The pendant was my great-great-uncle's. It's the Giles family crest. He had no children, so he passed it along to me. I thought maybe you'd like to have it."  
  
"Yeah I mean, I just...wow Giles. Thanks." Xander slipped it over his neck reverently and swallowed at the lump in his throat.   
  
"Now, how about those cookies?"  
  
"Yeah, that'd be good." Giles placed the kitten on Xander's lap and retreated to the kitchen. He returned with a tray of pink frosted, wreath shaped cookies and two fresh mugs of cider. He sat them on the table.  
  
As he was bent down, he noticed dark purple marks around Xander's elbow, roughly finger-shaped. He felt flushed with anger. He wanted to make Xander tell him what had happened. Where was the purpose in that? He knew what had happened. Giles wanted to march over to Xander's house and have an old fashioned "Ripper's night out" on Mr. Harris' spine. What would that get him besides arrested? 'Still,' he thought, 'might be worth it.' Or he could always call Family Services once the holiday was over. It wasn't what Xander would want though. He knew from what the girls had told him, from what he'd observed himself, that Xander was just trying to make it to his eighteenth birthday so he could move out. Then if his parents finally broke up, as inevitably they would, he could assure himself that despite their tirades, it had nothing to do with him.  
  
Giles walked back to his mantle, opened a little box there, and palmed something small. He went to Xander's side and dropped it into his hand.  
  
"What's this?" Xander eyed the key questioningly.  
  
"It's the key to this place. If you ever need a place to get away for awhile, or to stay, you are always welcome here." He decided to leave it at that, for now, and not mention the bruise at all.  
  
"Oh. Okay. Thanks." Xander slid his hand over the bruise as Tweed climbed higher up his chest. Giles pretended not to notice. "So, you gonna play something for me?" The Englishman sat back down, puzzled. "On your new guitar."  
  
"Oh, uh, you really want me to? I haven't played in years."  
  
"Yeah. I'd like it."  
  
"All right." Giles sat the guitar across his lap. Tweed hiked the rest of the way up Xander to finally lay on his shoulder, facing Giles attentively as he began to play "Louie, Louie", much to Xander's delight. 


End file.
